


All Ye Faithful

by Ratikait



Category: Ghost (Sweden Band)
Genre: Christmas Smut, Fireplaces, Ghost BC Secret Santa, Holidays, Kissing, Oral Sex, Other, Penetration, gender-neutral
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-26
Updated: 2019-12-26
Packaged: 2021-02-25 04:48:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21970183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ratikait/pseuds/Ratikait
Summary: This is my Secret Santa gift for androidingly, as part of the Ghost BC Fandom Events! I was very happy to create for this explicit, gender-neutral, Satanic Christmas prompt starring Papa Emeritus III and You! Happiest of Holidays and Longest of Nights!
Relationships: Papa Emeritus III/Reader
Comments: 5
Kudos: 40
Collections: Ghost BC Secret Santa 2019





	All Ye Faithful

**Author's Note:**

  * For [androidingly](https://archiveofourown.org/users/androidingly/gifts).



_ December 24th, 2016 - The Unholy Church of Emeritus _

The Abbey was quiet for the most part. Winter Solstice had been celebrated most fervently on the 21st of December. Those who weren’t recovering from the revelry were leaving the abbey to visit family abroad. Members of the faith did not begrudge the celebrations of other religions and were even encouraged to partake in the more pleasurable traditions.

Papa Emeritus III had mentioned sending for you in passing during the closing ceremony of the Winter Solstice. He had stared at you from over his glass of red wine. When he approached you felt surprise and panic, but the closer he moved, his gaze fixed you in place. He was a magnificent sight in his chasuble and mitre, with a golden nail pointed directly at you.

“You will come to see me soon, yes?” That was all he needed to say and he was already moving on to greet his eldest brother.

By the time you had managed a “yes, Papa” he was already gone. You watched him desperately for the rest of the night, but he did not look your way again. Even if you liked to believe you didn’t need anyone for validation, each day that passed without seeing him began to claw at you. 

Back in your room, on the night of the 24th, he invaded your thoughts. As your eyes scanned the same line in your book for the tenth time, you threw it aside with a sigh.

It was getting late and it seemed like it would be another fruitless night. Or at the very least like you would be taking care of yourself. After turning off your bedside lamp, you slowly shifted out of your pants, kicking them off beneath the blankets. Your hand slid into your underwear and you began to touch yourself.

A heavy knock on the door had you bolting upright in bed with a curse.

“Great timing,” you whispered and stood from the bed with a groan.

You hid your lower half behind the door and peered around as you opened it. The propriety of it was a holdover from life outside the church. One of Papa’s ghouls was waiting on the other side.

“Good evening, can I help you?” You asked him when he stood looming for a moment.

“Ah, yes.” He gave a little bow and went on. “His Unholiness, Papa Emeritus III has requested your presence in his rooms. He asks you to forgive the lateness of his call, but he was exceedingly busy earlier in the day. He will understand if you refuse.”

You shook your head. “No, of course I will go.”

The ghoul clasped his hands together. “Unholiness requests you wear this.” He clapped once and another ghoul appeared holding a floor length silk robe the color of rich crimson.

Your left eyebrow arched. “It’s not really my style,” You told the ghoul in a light tone.

“Papa insists,” he replied flatly.

“Then, yes. Just give me a second to put it on.” You took it from the ghoul and closed the door. You’d never changed faster and once it was on you had to admit that it was comfortable. The fabric was smoother than anything you’d ever felt and you imagined it was Papa’s chasuble slipping between your fingers.  _ In a half-hour or so, it could be, _ you thought to yourself.

The crimson robe was sleek and had some strange inherent quality that made you feel sexy, even though it did not reveal much of your body.  _ Fuck bathrobes, I could get into this, _ you thought as you pulled the door open.

“Ready,” you announced. The ghouls shared a knowing look with each other. You weren’t sure if it was at the sight of you or if they found it ridiculous that you thought you were ready for the night Papa had prepared.

They led you through the halls and up several flights of stairs. There had never been a reason for you to be in this part of the abbey. Your duties were not domestic and you had never been called by a Papa before. 

When you finally reached the top floor, the hallway that led to Papa’s set of rooms was lit with several candelabras. As you approached a grand set of carven double-doors the scent of pine filtered into your nostrils. It seemed real, not some manufactured or bottled scent. Then there was clearly music, a choir of beautiful voices.

_ “ Adeste fideles læti triumphantes _ _…”_ The meaning of the Latin words escaped you, but the tune was familiar – “Oh Come, All Ye Faithful”.

One of the ghouls opened the right door at the entrance and ushered you inside with a hand gesture.

“Thank you,” you offered quickly as the ghoul pulled the door shut behind you.

The room you had entered was opulence personified. Monumental, gilded chandeliers hung above an absurdly long wooden table. The ceilings vaulted high and were strung with thousands of delicate, twinkling lights. The music came from an antique turntable that was situated between what appeared to be two massive pine trees. It was what every film you had watched as a child depicted that Christmas should be.

You smiled when a toy train’s horn tooted and it came chugging around the inside of the trees and turntable to form a figure eight.

“I hoped you would enjoy it, my little homage,” Papa said suddenly and it startled you. 

He was seated at the table, but in all of the excess, the usually outstanding Papa seemed to blend in.

“I do. I just didn’t expect so much–”

“Christmas,” Papa interrupted and laughed. He stood up and beckoned you closer to him. He wore his black suit and white gloves. “Why should Christians have all of the fun, hmm? It becomes more and more secular every year. If anything, the sheer amount of greed in it is pushing it into our territory.”

“I never imagined I would see a member of the Emeritus family celebrating the birth of Jesus.”

“You can’t blame him for the accident of his birth. It’s admirable, I think. Such religious importance and responsibility thrust upon him at birth, and he fucking ran with it. Perhaps it is the commonalities between us that appeal to me.” You reached him and he tapped the side of his nose. “Though I have it on good authority he was born in March.”

You smiled a little nervously at your proximity.

“Have a seat,” he instructed and you began to pull out the chair closest to him.

“No, no.” He stopped you. You stood up straight at attention and backed away from the table. He sat and tapped his knee lightly. "Sit here."

You swallowed as he pushed away from the table to give you more room. Heat rose in your cheeks as you settled upon his lap. The silk robe slid against his trousers and he caught you gently about the waist with one arm. He pulled you to his chest and he was so much warmer than you had imagined he would be. He leaned to the side and surveyed the table.

“Would you care for anything? The kitchens have prepared everything they could think of it seems.”

He was right. The table was flooded with delicacies. Pheasant, fudge and gingerbread were served up on intricate glass platters. Yams, fruitcakes and pies were held aloft in ceramic stoneware.

“No, thank you, Unholiness,” you refused politely.

Papa broke a morsel from the spread on his plate.

“Come, try this peppermint bark, it’s sinful and I insist,” he coaxed and brought it to your lips. “Open up for Papa,” he whispered.

You obeyed him and felt something low in your stomach flutter at his words. You took the proffered treat into your mouth and his gloved finger pulled at your lip as he withdrew his hand. It was delicious and decadent, a food that you would associate with Papa from that moment on.

He took a sip of red wine as you finished sampling the bark and offered the glass to you. You shook your head, but dipped carefully toward him. The wine had left a deep red stain on his inner lower lip and it hypnotized you. When you looked back up to his eyes Papa was gazing at you with an intense hunger.

The wine glass flew from his hand as he grasped you tightly and drew you down into a fierce kiss. Any recognition of it shattering left your mind. His mouth and taste and scent became the only elements you cared to acknowledge. A wine-stained tongue slipped against yours and a soft moan escaped you at the sweetness.

When he broke the kiss it was only long enough to growl, “Straddle me.”

You did as he instructed without hesitation. The robe spread open at the waist and he gazed at your sex like a starving man. Lithe hips bucked underneath you, searching out friction. You swept down to kiss him again. His lips were plump and soft, more inviting than any pair you’d experienced before. Skilled hands ran over your sides and caressed your chest over the silk robe.

You sat back to catch your breath and he brought a finger to your lips.

“Remove my glove,” he ordered. When you started to bring your hands up he ‘tsk’ed and tapped your lips.

Eyes wide, you timidly took the tip of his glove between your teeth and gingerly worked it off of his hand.

“Good,” he praised. He brought the other glove to your mouth. “Don’t forget this one, amore.”

You repeated yourself, holding his heated gaze throughout. His bare hands brushed gently over your cheeks. The hands were smooth and thin, but strong. Your eyes fell closed and one hand wandered to caress the back of your neck. The other disappeared for only a moment before taking advantage of the open robe and he reached down to touch you.

A ragged gasp left your lips as you strained to get closer to him. Deft fingers swiftly worked sensitive flesh and he had you panting in his lap. Papa’s cock pressed up at your ass insistently through his trousers. You could feel him twitch through the fabric.

“I’ve watched over you…” he purred against your ear. “Your unholy baptism, your progress…” A slick tongue slid over the place in your throat that you swear your pulse pounded loud enough to be heard. “At Solstice Closing, you were perfection. I had to have you.”

Pleasure pooled in your stomach and you nodded.

“Papa, you can have me,” you assured him in a husky whisper.

His hand worked faster and you bucked involuntarily at the sensation. He leaned back and took in the sight of you, wanton and yielding.

“Of course I can, but I’ll have to properly unwrap my gift before it’s truly mine,” he told you with a wink. The hand at your neck traced the neckline of the robe down your chest to the bow you had tied. “Wrapped with a bow. I have this tradition correct, yes?” He wondered.

You nodded, too afraid to speak and interrupt him. He tugged at one of the tails and the bow came loose. He pulled the belt from the robe in quick movement. He stopped stroking you and moved his hands over your thighs and upward, parting the robe as he caressed your stomach and chest. The robe was pushed to the ground as he reached your shoulders.

Warm hands grasped at your hips as he nestled his head over your heart. There was greasepaint all over your chest, but it only mattered because somehow you felt it made you his. Your hands instinctively moved to caress his silken hair. He shifted under your touch and suddenly a jolt of pleasure echoed through your body. 

First his tongue darted out over your nipple. Then his lips closed over it and before long his teeth grazed over the sensitive skin. You pulled him closer, gasping his name and grinding against his rigid cock. It was easy to find friction in your position and you began to feel a sense of mounting bliss within you. It made you wonder if this was how Papa intended to finish.

He rested his forehead against you and drew a breath.

“Will you get on your knees for your Papa?” It was a desperate plea that he knew you would not refuse.

As smoothly as possible, you moved off of him and onto the floor. Your knees sunk into the intricate rug, which was quite soft. He stroked your cheek again as you rested your head against his inner thigh.

“I have imagined this moment, do you know? Just like this,” he admitted. His thumb traced your lips.

“I have always wanted you, Papa,” you answered softly.

He took your hand and placed it at the crease of his thigh.

“Then have me,” he ordered in a growl.

You sat up high on your knees and unfastened his trousers in a flash. Half-expecting candy cane-striped underwear, you instead found none at all. With haste, you withdrew his impressive cock and took the head in your mouth.

“Fuck…” He grunted as his head fell back.

You moaned, vibrating around him. Then you chuckled when it drew another curse out of him. You spit to coat him and pumped him fast whilst tonguing the head of his cock. His curses turned to harsh exhales and moans.

“Amore, fuck… Oh, Lucifer… Amore, deeper, I beg you…” he eventually managed.

Hearing him plead drove you mad with and you obliged him. You took him into your mouth and felt him pound into the back of your throat with a jerk. You withdrew slightly, but allowed him to fuck your mouth deeply.

Suddenly he shifted back in the chair and pressed a firm hand to your shoulder.

“I don’t want to end like this,” he explained. He stood quickly and the chair fell backward to the floor. He extended a hand to you and you accepted it gladly. You were only able to stand for a second before he was whisking you toward him and stealing a passionate kiss. His palms spread over your ass and cupped the cheeks tightly. His exposed erection slid against your bare skin.

He broke away and cradled you to his side. “Come, and know me better,” he quipped and led you through a doorway to his bedroom.

It was lavish, decorated in sinful burgundies, ostentatious golds and velvety blacks. A massive bed covered in silks and brocades was resting at the center of the room. But it was a crackling fireplace with plush blankets piled before it that called to you.

Papa wrapped his arms around you from behind and rasped in your ear, “Shall I have you before our Dark Father’s infernal fire?”

You nodded and relaxed into him.

“Yes?”

“Yes, Papa.”

“Then lie down for me, amore. I’ll join you in a moment,” he instructed.

You hesitated, but sank down onto the blankets. Your hands ran over the smooth and soft fabrics as you waited on your knees. He retrieved something from the bedside and returned. His fingers lazily worked open the buttons of his jacket as he swayed his hips. Of course Emeritus III would tease you. When his torso was bare, he stepped before the fire and beckoned you closer. You pushed his trousers down his hips and placed your own teasing kiss to the base of his cock.

He dropped to his knees and you were forced beneath him as he embraced you. Hot kisses scattered across your neck and chest as he ground hard against you. His white eye turned into a flame in the firelight. It was intense and demonic, but it further ignited your passion.

“Papa, will you fuck me?” You breathed between kisses.

“There are no words in Hell for the depraved things I will do to you,” he answered. His eyes sought yours and soften at your look of desperation. “Fucking you senseless might be a good place to start,” he amended.

“Please, Papa,” you pleaded and bucked up at him.

“Yes, yes…” he agreed and sat up. He searched his trousers for the lube he had removed from his bedside and prepared himself. He was exquisite in the firelight as his fist moved over his cock. At first you thought he was teasing you again, but you realized as he watched that he saw you the same way you saw him. He made you feel gorgeous and your heart ached.

“Spread your legs for me, amore,” Papa asked gently.

You bit your bottom lip and moved into position for him. His skillful fingers added more lube to you, which you thought unnecessary until he was pressing against you. He started to slide inside of you and you gave a strained sigh.

“You feel so fucking big, Papa,” you hissed.

He grinned. “You can take it.” He was slow to fill you, and allowed you to adjust to him. You felt him stroke a place deep inside that had you gasping. “Tell me when to move,” he whispered and traced circles on your thigh.

“Move now,” you said immediately.

Papa pumped in long strokes, forcing a gasp from you with each thrust. Within moments, you were bucking to meet his thrusts and he moved faster. The fire reflected in his white eye seemed to grow more intense with his frenzied passion.

Each time he bottomed out he had you keening and you felt your pleasure mounting. The sweet Italian endearments he had once used turned to curses as he fucked you harder.

“I’ll pump you so fucking full!” He groaned and leaned close over you. Two of his fingers slid into your mouth. “Is that what you want? Emeritus seed spilling inside you? Fucked deep into you?”

“Yes! Fuck, yes!” You cried when he removed his fingers, fully prepared to agree to anything. You were almost there as he struck the sweet spot inside you in quick succession.

“So fucking desperate for me to flood your tight little—”

Before he could finish his sentence you broke and gasped as you came hard. You shook beneath Papa, gripping his forearms and continuing to force yourself along his shaft. Your vision went white and you felt the fire consuming you. Papa revelled in your trembling and jerked deeper.

When you could see clearly again, Papa was staring into your eyes. His breathing was ragged and his hips snapped flush against you. He gripped your thighs and pulled you close as he stroked into you one last time. He gave a series of short telltale thrusts and you felt his unholy warmth spread deep inside of you.

Papa hung his head and his raven hair tickled your chest. He slowly removed himself and propped himself up on an elbow beside you. You could feel his cum trickling out of you.

“Amore, do you need anything?” Papa asked quietly.

You turned into his chest and nestled there, not caring if he was coated in a light sheen of sweat.

“Your Unholiness’ presence is more than enough,” you answered softly.

Papa draped arm around you and stroked your shoulder. You felt kisses being placed on the top of your head.

“Such a faithful child of sin you are,” he praised you with sincerity. “But I would be a very poor host if I did not have a gift for you as well.”

You shot him a questioning glance. “A gift for me?”

“Close your eyes,” he said with a sly smile. When you did, he reached back for his trousers again and dug in the front pocket. He took your hand and felt a piece of metal slide into it. “Open.”

You found a small brass skeleton key in your palm.

“A key to my rooms, so that you may visit your Papa when you like,” he explained.

The ache you had felt in your heart throbbed again.

“Thank you, Papa,” you told him and claimed a soft kiss.

“You are welcome, my darling,” Papa assured you and somewhere a clock struck midnight. “It is Christmas after all.”


End file.
